The next day is a Sunday and Dean doesn't have time to start obsessing over waiting for his nightly visitor because his mom tells him they're having company for dinner. She makes him go find a button up shirt upstairs that he just throws a flannel over anyway.
He's peeling potatoes when the door bell rings.
"I got it!" His dad calls as he walks past the kitchen.
Dean can hear laughing and voices before a woman with long brown hair and smile cresses in her skin enters the kitchen with a little blonde girl in tow. She's maybe 9 or 10 and keeping close to her mom.
"Hi! You made it!" Mary finishes washing her hands in the sink and quickly dries them on a dish towel. She rushes over but seems to hesitate in front of them for a second, uncertain. The woman grabs her in a hug for a long moment then pulls away smiling but kinda sad.
"Hey hun. How ya been keepin' yerself?" She has a Texan accent, he thinks. Bobby and his dad follow a half minute later.
"Good. Really good. Sam's getting so big and saying new words all the time."
She nods smiling. "And who's this?"
"Dean?" His dad reminds him. Putting down the peeler, he wipes his hands on the dish towel and comes closer.
"Dean Winchester, ma'am." He moves to extend his hand.
"Aw, none of that, now. Call me Ellen." She shakes his hand firmly, then gestures behind her. "And this is my Jo."
She peeks out from behind her mom and he smiles awkwardly and waves. She lifts up her hand in a small wave in return but doesn't smile.
Ellen sighs and asks to be put to work. His dad grabs all the adults a beer and tells Dean to go show Jo the backyard before Sam wakes up from his nap.
Great, dismissed like a little kid. What the hell was he supposed to talk about with this little kid?
Ellen takes over peeling potatoes and Dean walks towards the back door. He opens it but Jo hasn't moved from her spot in the kitchen.
"Joanna Beth, you go on now. I'll be right here."
The girl drags her feet but crosses the kitchen to the door and follows him outside.
"Well um this is the backyard." He holds out his hand.
"Yeah, I got that." She raises her eyebrows and purses her lips sarcastically.
Dean rolls his eyes and walks towards the simple swing set his parents had bought for Sam. He plops down at the bottom of the plastic slide and leans back to lay his back against it so he's staring up at the sky. Eventually, Jo unfolds her crossed arms and walks to the hanging swing to sit on it and kick at red mulch on the ground.
Dean cushions his head with his hands and wonders if Cas is up there somewhere or if he stays on Earth. It's amazing how much he still doesn't know about the guy.. angel.. but he was already looking forward to his next visit. When a bird caws and flys overhead, Dean starts to try and imagine what it's like when he flies. Does he swoop in swirls or dive and glide?
He breaks out of his daydream when he hears the squeak of the chain on the swing. He should probably try to talk to this girl. Be polite and all even though she wasn't making it easy.
"So uh, Bobby's your dad?"
"What?! Don't be a dumbass!"
Dean's startled by her violent response and sits up to see her glaring at him on the verge of tears.
"Geez, I didn't-"
"Just shut up, okay!" She turns in the swing away from him to sniff until she wipes her eyes on long sleeve.
Shit, what just happened? After a few more tense minutes, Dean has to say something.
"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.."
"My dad's dead."
Oh. Well that explained it. Now he feels awful. He felt totally inadequate at giving comfort and bit his lip thinking of what to do next.
She makes a noise of annoyance. "You don't have to say anything. It's not going to make any difference. Can we just sit here without talking until they call us back in?"
Dean heaves and regrets not knowing the right thing to say but is a little relieved by her words.
"Yeah, sure." He says quietly and goes back to watching the sky.
The days fly by in a whirl of classes, friends, home, sleep, repeat and it's the day that Castiel said he'd return before he knows it. The night of however stretches on and on, hours passing slowly on his digital alarm clock.
Castiel doesn't appear until almost 2am. Dean turns around from pacing to see him standing about a foot away.
"Jesus!" He almost shoves him he's so startled by his close proximity without a warning. "Personal space, dude!"
Castiel only takes a step back as Dean catches his breath, waiting for the adrenaline to stop pumping. "I thought you weren't gonna show."
"I said I would, Dean." He says tightly.
"Alright, chill. Sorry."
Castiel seems pacified and turns away to pick up a dragon figurine off Dean's shelf. It was a weird habit he had of seemingly not being able to stay still, always looking at one possession or another with intent curiosity. It kinda reminded him of Ariel from The Little Mermaid, so interested in human knick knacks.. And no he definitely hadn't seen The Little Mermaid.
"So…"
Dean looks around his room as if for something else to say. He didn't want to just constantly bombard the guy with questions but he couldn't think of what he was supposed to do with him now that he was here.
"Yes?" Cas says, glancing at him.
"What's new with you?" That sounded lame. Inwardly groaning, Dean sits down on the window seat, stretching his legs out apart in front of him. He hears a book drop to the floor suddenly. Castiel's jaw is tight and his arms are at his sides.
"What?"
Dean frowns looking behind him and then realizes he's blocking the window. The exit.
"Oh. Sorry."
Getting up, he walks over to his bed and sits up by the headboard like last time. After a few tense moments, the angels grabs a box of his cassette tapes and comes to sit cross-legged at the opposite end.. just as he did before as well.
Dean watches him pick up at tape and scrutinize the small picture of a band.
"I gotta tell ya, man.. besides unloading like a million questions on you, I don't know what else to say to an angel."
"I could ask you questions if you would feel more comfortable." He says, picking up another tape.
"You wanna know about me?"
"Very much."
Dean tries not to smile stupidly because he's a little flattered. "Why?"
"I have not interacted with many humans."
"Cool, so I'm like an ambassador for mankind?"
Castiel just raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, shoot."
"How often do you eat?"
"Ha. Well me me or mankind me?"
"Is there a difference?"
"Well I'm not a good example. Put somethin' in front of me and I'll put it away but normally humans eat three times a day. More or less."
"Do you have a preference for what you consume?"
"Not really. I'm not a big fan of veggies but besides that.. Oh! But pie is where it's at. Especcially my mom's. I left you some blueberry once. When she makes apple, you've gotta try it."
From there Castiel asks about Dean's mother then what he does during the day. When Dean says he usually goes to school, he has to spend a whole half hour explaining the schedule of his school day. It was awkward at first, but the more he talks the less stilted it feels. Castiel never interrupts or adds anything but seems so focused on his answers, despite his preoccupation with methodically inspecting every tape he owns. Soon, Dean's just talking.. telling stories about Sam and his favorite movies or the storyline of some comic until he sees the sun.
"Uggh. I'm gonna be dead tomorrow.. well today."
"My apologizes, I did not realize how much time had passed."
"No it was fun. Weird, but fun. Kinda like you."
Castiel smiles and looks down almost shy.
"Are you gonna come again?"
"If you would like."
And that's how they started. Dean would always ask if he'd come back and Cas would reply with some variation of "if Dean wanted". Sometimes he'd give him a day to expect him, but not always. Then he'd just appear one night, standing near his window. Once Dean was playing Mario on his new Nintendo and he just came in and sat down next to him. Dean offered to show him how to play but Cas declined, content to watch him.
It never entered Dean's mind to tell his parents or friends. They would never understand and he enjoyed their nights together too much to risk ever sharing him with anyone else. Besides it made him feel special to have this secret and that Cas chose him to talk to. No one ever seems to really listen to a 15yr old.. But he paid such careful attention to ever word that came out of Dean's mouth.
Mostly, they would sit on Dean's bed, trading questions or Dean would ramble until he got too tired. Cas would be thumbing through a book or fiddling with an action figure. He had to explain why certain ones were left in their boxes to increase their value which only seemed to confuse Cas. It should have annoyed Dean.. someone messing with all his stuff but he couldn't be irritated with Cas' child-like need to touch and toy with everything.
Through the next four visits, Dean probably gave a lot more than he got.. but he did learn that Cas doesn't eat, but he can. There is a Heaven, but he prefers to be down here. There were other angels and they were all like his brothers and sisters, but Cas was only close to a few. He didn't talk about them any further and Dean didn't press. He hated landing on a topic that made him close up. He ended up feeling like he'd tripped a wire and would backtrack to find something else to talk about.
Once he asked if there was a god and Cas seemed about to clam up but then just said, "Yes." So Dean had to ask, "Have you talked to him? What's he like? Does he have a beard and look like Santa or is he all white light and stuff?"
"I don't know, Dean. I have never seen him. Gabr-… my brother, says he's seen him. That is the only reason I even know my father ever existed."
Dean realizes he fucked up because Cas is staring off at the window, back straight as a board and there's a sound like feathers rubbing together.
"Hey." Before he can get up, Dean reaches out and touches his forearm. Cas turns to look down at the fingers gripping him. It suddenly occurs to Dean.. this is the first time he's touched the angel. He's sure his ears are pink but he doesn't let go. He's beginning to see Cas isn't an odd thing to ogle but has feelings and hurts and it makes him want to fix the wound he just opened.
When Cas finally moves his eyes up to his face, Dean says, "I'm sorry I brought it up but if you ever need a friend to talk to.. I'm here, kay?"
"You believe us to be friends, Dean?"
"Yeah. I mean, don't you?"
Cas frowns and looks back down. "It hadn't occurred to me."
Dean releases his arm, not knowing what other comfort he could give since Cas obviously wasn't going to talk about it and the moment passed. They sat in silence and when Dean hears the rustle of feathers shifting again he asks the first thing that pops into his head to break the quiet.
"Do you think I could feel your wings sometime or would that be uber weird?
Castiel jerks his head up, eyes wide.
"I know they're like not able to be seen by us mere mortals or on this plane or whatever you said but I was just- what?"
Chewing his lip, Castiel seems more flustered than Dean's ever seen him.
"Is that like not allowed too?"
"No.. It's not that."
Dean watches him swallow and smirks at how off-footed he managed to make a freaking angel. He's about to take pity on him and tell him it was no big deal when he feels something brush his upper arm.. just below his shirt sleeve. Dean almost slaps at it because it feels like a bug or something but he sees Castiel is staring at his arm too.
Holy Shit.
Dean tries to stay perfectly still as the softest touch slides up his arm. Cas is hunched forward a bit with a furrowed brow, checking between Dean's face and his arm as if to make sure this was okay.
Dean lets out a small involuntary laugh because it's ticklish. One of the phantom feathers touches his cheek and he abruptly realizes how intimate this kinda is with the only sound being them breathing, Cas a little shakily, and how he moves forward a bit more so now both sides of Dean's arms and face are being caressed. It sends a shiver through him
He can't take Cas' intense blue gaze this close so he turns his face into the softness. It's surreal, he can't see anything but he can feel individual tips and edges against his sensitive skin. Dean breathes in a dusty smell like wheat and earth and powdered honey. As if in a trance, he brings fingers up to try and touch them.
Cas abruptly sits back and with a whip of air, he's free. All the gentle brushes of downy fluff rubbing him are gone.
Dean blinks. Across from him, Cas seems almost out of breath, chest heaving and arms braced behind him so he's leaning away from Dean.
"Was that sufficient?"
"Uh.. Yeah, that was.. something. Man, they're crazy soft, Cas."
He's staring at the ceiling when he mumbles, "Thank you, Dean."
Not long after that, Cas says he needs to leave and will be back within a week.
Dean touches his cheek when he's gone, remembering. Then he scratches it to get rid of the ghost feelings. He tosses and turns but never really falls back asleep.
Author's Note: A bit of wingkink does a reader good. Hope you're all enjoying.